The road wound out of the forest into rolling hills.
The merchants were cheerful again, relieved to be alive. They laughed, joked, even offered Narsh extra bread—which she accepted while swearing at them for "being stingy bastards."
For a moment, I thought maybe things would be peaceful.
I was wrong.
---
It happened too fast.
A second group of bandits—angrier, better armed—ambushed us from the ridge. The first group must've called for reinforcements.
The clash was chaos.
Steel clashed, arrows flew.
Malrik shouted prayers, summoning light to shield the wagons.
Narsh swung her frying pan like a demon's mace.
I charged in with bare fists, sending men flying.
But amidst the battle, a scream tore the air.
One of the merchants—the same man I'd saved yesterday—was slashed across the throat by a bandit blade.
Blood sprayed.
He fell.
His wife shrieked. "NOT AGAIN! PLEASE, NO!"
---
I froze.
My chest burned with that same awful pull.
The warmth stirred inside me—like a hand tugging at my heart, urging me to act.
I could save him.
But Malrik's warning echoed like thunder:
"Every revival is a gamble. You will lose something."
And Narsh's voice followed:
"You can't save everyone."
I knelt, hands hovering over the man's bloody chest.
Sweat dripped down my forehead.
"…If I do this again…" I whispered.
---
The wife grabbed my arm, sobbing.
"Please! You saved him once—you can do it again! Please, I'll do anything!"
My body shook.
My muscles screamed to move.
My heart screamed to save.
But my mind… hesitated.
Malrik stood behind me, voice like iron.
"Don't, boy. You're playing with fire you cannot control."
Narsh's eyes, sharp but trembling, locked on mine.
"Ark… it's your choice."
---
I looked at the man dying beneath me.
His wife clutching him.
The bandits fleeing, the merchants staring in fear and hope.
And I froze.
For the first time in my life, I didn't know if my strength was enough.
---
My hands trembled inches from his wound.
I could feel the warmth—ready to pour out.
But I couldn't move.
"Damn it…" I muttered.
"Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!"
The man's eyes went blank. His body stilled.
And this time… I didn't save him.
---
The world fell silent.
His wife's sobs filled the air.
The merchants looked at me—not with awe, but with confusion.
Why didn't I save him?
I clenched my fists until they bled.
Malrik placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You did the right thing."
Narsh looked at me, biting her lip. She wanted to curse, to yell, but instead she whispered:
"…You dumbass."
---
I turned away from the body.
And for the first time, I felt like the weakest man alive.
---
[Author's Note: Ark just failed to save someone… but was it weakness, or was it wisdom?]